


Fate Rewritten

by EggsterAndTheBacon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Bullying, Eventual Wolfstar - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hermione is a Black, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), POV Ginny Weasley, POV Hermione Granger, POV Sirius Black, Rape/Non-con Elements, Time Travel, Unplanned Pregnancy, oof tagging is weird, rewrite of an older fic, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:48:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25164169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EggsterAndTheBacon/pseuds/EggsterAndTheBacon
Summary: Rewrite of older fic: Change of PlansDuring the Battle of Hogwarts, Bellatrix uses a curse that forces Hermione through time and places her as the youngest of the Black sisters. She is placed in an arranged marriage to Voldemort but she still seeks out Ginny Weasley whom has followed her through time.With her only hope being the help of Sirius Black and Lily Evans.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Fate Rewritten

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)  
> Some of you may be older readers who have moved on from the older text that was the original version of this story. As I have reworked it, to contain less plot holes and grammatical errors, I have chosen to just republish it here.

The Wizarding World had been quick to fall into a violent war - and The Battle of Hogwarts continued to rage on, with Hermione pushing herself to the front lines. The very short breaths that left her mouth and the pounding in her ears were all that reminded her of just how alive she was. Eyes unfocused, she felt a grimace befall her face as she felt the string of hexes hit her - burning her every nerve. A scream ripped from her mouth, and she fell to the dirt ground, tears leaving her eyes and her arms shaking violently as a Crucio had been fired her. As quick as it started, it had ended. But the curse’s momentary agony bruised her soul.

It was a flash of red hair that steadied her vision, and Hermione felt the person grip her arm tightly before yanking her to her feet.

“Ginny,” she moaned, as she felt the girl’s strong arms envelop her and hold her close, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head. Hermione hugged Ginny Wesley back, turning to meet her lips as they embraced quickly but gently - and as she pulled back, she met the worried eyes of the other girl.

“’Mione, run.” Ginny was curt with her words but paused to shift Hermione away from the firing of a curse. “That god awful Bellatrix is out looking for you, and you cannot just be out here in the open.” The redhead’s hands rested on Hermione’s shoulders, firmly holding her as she seemed to search her lover’s expression for reassurance that she had understood her plea. That reassurance was met with defiance. Hermione spun quickly to deflect a hex, before shaking her head - there was no way that Ginny could have believed she would hide and abandon the battle, not when everyone they loved was risking their lives.

They began to shift out of the heat of the battle, sidestepping the many duels that were taking place. “You can’t honestly believe I’d do that,” Hermione shot, heart racing as Ginny only just missed being hit by a green burst of magic. It appalled Hermione, the thought of abandoning her friends just because of one highly dangerous and murderous witch - she had faced this woman before for merlin’s sake. “We’re doing this for Harry, he is my best friend,” she said quietly.

“And you are my girlfriend,” she said, tone absolutely filled with a dreaded anguish. “Can you not just go to the hospital wing - heal yourself, and let the more experienced deal with her first?” Her words verged on insulting, but as her bones chilled from the surrounding smell of death, Hermione refused to take offence, instead grit her teeth and shot a curse at an upcoming Death Eater. 

Hermione shook her head, smiling tiredly at the familiarity of a stubborn Weasley. “Gin, we fight together, we see it through together - we,” she stressed, intertwining their fingers as Ginny continued to pull her through the battlefield. “I refuse to leave you here, to fight alone.”

The Weasley only looked aghast. “But ‘Mione-“ Ginny finally had pulled them to the entrance steps of the Hogwarts Castle. “It’s Bellatrix - she is looking for you, just run. Find Harry.” Ginny turned to look at her, her brown eyes flickered with gold-coloured doubt.

Hermione felt hot tears, again, pool in her own eyes as she dropped Ginny’s hands. “We’re fighting together, I doubt you would do this, even if I asked,” she murmured, and Ginny’s face contorted to a hurt expression. Eyebrows dragged together. Hermione let her chest ache with a throbbing guilt, what she had said wounded Ginny - a petty argument to her want to protect.

In those months on the run with Harry and Ron - Hermione learnt quickly what true hatred felt like. Hatred for the war that burned her relationships, caused her to grieve at the loss of the people she had known, and for the silver bullets it shot at her safety. Her lover took a disbelieving step back before aiming her wand. Her body stilled, watching as Ginny’s wand hand stayed at a sullen stillness. A laugh that sounded akin to the dying of church birds sounded from behind her, and as she too twisted to pull her wand she knew that Bellatrix had already gained the upper hand.

"Well 'looky here, what this I've found?" Bellatrix's cold raspy voice boomed - flicking the aim of her wand between herself and Ginny. Hermione drew in a breath of suffocating air. "If it isn’t the mudblood and her weasel," she smiled wickedly as she playfully took a step forward - daring them to make the first move.

She let her head tilt to the side, her mane of knotted curls flying wildly behind her, her eyes settled on Hermione. Humming almost serenely as the fights around them began to deafen into a blur of quiet noise. “I’ve had plans for you mudblood… plans indeed,” her silky voice drawled, raspy yet smooth as Hermione finally lost track of the breaths she breathed. Her skin pinched with a tight coldness when the witch moved again to twist her wand to aim at Ginny. “Shall I kill your Weasley first, perhaps, let your final moment be in sorrow,” she asked, her mouth splitting to her infamous crazed grin. Ginny’s expression did not crack, but her pale complexion sickened Hermione to her core. 

Hermione’s lip quivered pathetically; the Death Eater sneered at the two witches. “Brave little things,” she hissed, her chin lifted in a movement of pre-eminence. Her eyes became slits reminiscent of a snake, and truly what a wonderful metaphor for the woman. Soon, the focus returned to Hermione - the dark witch’s wand being jabbed venomously towards her. “See how you brave you are once I have used moíra,” she said, and Hermione felt her reality shatter.

As if her very mind hat been shattered and rebuilt piece by piece, Hermione relinquished her steady grip on her wand - letting the wooden weapon fall to the ground with a hushed clatter. Ginny, despite her apparent confusion, lifted her wand higher. “You couldn’t possibly,” Hermione cried, shock and rage dripped from her words - her body couldn’t move. She wanted to scramble for her wand, but she cowered at tearing away her sight from Bellatrix, fearful that the curse would truly be fired her way. “It is a forbidden spell,” she said as a plea. “It can cause uncontrolled corruption to the entirety of space and being - all this, would be for nothing.”

She was drained of bravery or Gryffindor’ arrogance, and she wavered at the smug look it granted Bellatrix. “So,” she laughed, waving her wand menacingly in the air. “You don’t truly believe you’ll change my mind - if not you, then I’ll send it to Weasel.”

Ginny, her darling and lovely Ginny. Perhaps this was the flaw of love - you never considered an option to protect the both of you, when you knew the option to protect your lover.

She heard Ginny’s cry, in her strong voice, the one that she loved so wholeheartedly. Her brain was putty whenever she was involved. “Hermione! Please, what is it? What is that spell?” her voice had broken, it faltered, and it pleaded. But Ginny, ever the lovesick fool, tore her eyes from Bellatrix to look at Hermione. 

Hermione was too entranced by Bellatrix’s wand movements.

When the curse finally came to her, she pondered the lack of regret she had for this action.

"Moíra!"

Pain blossomed from her head, and she felt herself fall to the ground, she trained her eyes on her hands - a transparent silver, and she realized that her very being had begun to fade from existence - there was no sound when she screamed. It was just the nothingness that she had become.

In her final look at the life she led, she watched as Ginny hurled herself towards where she herself had once stood - punching the floor bloody as she let out a murderous scream at Bellatrix.

"Hermione! What have you done? Where is she?" Ginny had said, seething as she pulled her wand from the floor and aimed it at Bellatrix. "Bring her back!"

The woman looked up, almost seeming surprised that her spell had worked before letting a glimmer of glee rest in her eyes. "That’s impossible.” A smile played on her lips as she watched Ginny progress and understand everything that happened.

"Y-you fucking Bitch." Ginny couldn't find the ability to speak these words with anger as she fell to her knees in turmoil. The poor Death Eater never even saw the string of hexes that hit her.

\---

A splitting cold pain caused her to shout in agony as Hermione felt her head bang harshly against stone flooring, the unflattering position that she pulled herself into made her quick to realize that she must have been hanging upside down before her brutal drop. Her eyesight saw only blackness, twinkly and dusty, but as she regathered her consciousness - a stranger’s charming laughter broke the silence. Instantly fear suffocated her, as she blinked away her blindness she considered if it would be Bellatrix in front of her. Logically, the voice was far too deep and hearty for it to be her - but still Hermione’s nails dug into her knees.

Regretfully, she considered her Ginny, the one that she had failed, she was not there to protect her - she idiotically let that Death Eater throw her damned spell and now Ginny’s existence was a lifetime away. She sucked a breath - breath? Her eyes shot open, she was alive, that damned curse had failed to put her in a deadly enough situation to kill her. She was alive - without her strong and brave and absolutely marvelous girlfriend.

Yet still, the ever-sinking feeling that resided in her stomach caused her to feel useless at her actions, and how numb her heart beat now that she had abandoned Ginny. This day was most certainly not her best, and she bemoaned her existence for all of its shortcomings in her final moments in the war. Hermione finally gave in and chose to register the curious world around her as the pain flittered away.

A tall boy clad in Hogwarts’ robes, and artfully messy black hair that fell to his shoulders, stood smiling grimly at her. “So,” he started, still holding a wand out in front of him, aiming it towards her. She let out a frustrated groan - had Moira sent her to be offed by some Hogwart’s students a century before her time? “You have decided to finally wake up have you?” he finished, and her eyes glanced to the second wand that he held in his nondominant hand - presumably her own (a thought that did no good to dwell on).

His grey eyes were alit with a gleeful cruelty, but as she registered his brash words she fell to a standstill. What frightened her were not his words, or his threatening wand stance, yet the very fact that he, Sirius Black, was very much young and alive.

Her mouth fell to a slight gape, taking in the man’s youthful appearance - no traces of Askaban in his face, and very few visible tattoos. Bellatrix’s spell had most definitely worked, yet the odds were in favor for Hermione as she had survived it miraculously and instead appeared hear in the seventies with absolutely no clear as to where to proceed from here.

Moira was supposed to change the fate of the victim, to send their soul to another person in a close to death situation. Most commonly assumed that of a stillborn child or a person falling to their death. On a rare recorded moment, a person had been sent back in their own body and survived, yet as Hermione looked at her hands, she knew they were not her own. To this she asked, who the hell was she?  
Sirius leant forwards, beckoning her forward with the flick of his wrist, but Hermione instead chose to push herself against the wall behind her. “Come Dorea, get up now. Don’t want to cause the Black name any harm, do you?” Sirius’s voice was a cruel tone, one that she could never have fathomed would be aimed at her. She pressed a hand to her heart, watching him slowly lower his wand. Black? Had he said she was part of the Black family? A thrum of sicken disgust sat on her tongue, as she thought of the Pureblooded witch who once bore the same last name - the witch who had caused her to be here.

The want for the wall to open up and swallow her whole was a tempting thought. “Who?” The word slipped from her tongue, like a quiet curse, as the humiliation overtook her at the idea of becoming one of the very witches that had sought to see her dead. Had moira placed her in the body of a now Bellatrix Black? Bile filled her mouth at the daring thought.

Sirius threw his head back, meeting the eyes of one of his friends as he let out baffled laughter. His eyebrow raised in curiosity, but Hermione pinged with interest at his three followers. The Marauders. 

Peter Pettigrew stood closest to Sirius, he was currently returning the laugh, his face flushed red with a shit-eating grin covering his face. James Potter followed after, with an ultimately strained smile, as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose but his gaze fell on Hermione and the expression, he held was that of a flickering concern.

Remus Lupin stood to the back, his lip was bitten raw, and he was pale with an understanding that something was wrong. Frankly, it brought her grim pleasure to not be the only one noticing the wrongness of the situation.

“Where am I?’ Hermione asked, taking in the stone walls and their familiarity. Honestly glad to be on the steps of Hogwarts where she had failed her duel against Bellatrix Lestrange. “Who - am I?”

The four boys slipped to a hushed silence, and Sirius craned his neck to look at her is adherent disbelief. “Excuse me?” He said, searching Hermione’s dark eyes for some reason to believe she was fooling him with a petty quip - to guilt him for his violent ploy against her.

“How hard did you hit your head,” James Potter said, his voice chopped with a faked playfulness, but his queasy look proved his words otherwise.  
She thought back to her fall, “I hit my head,” she stated slowly, trying to make sense of her predicament. Pressing some fingers to the part of her head that still throbbed with a numbing pain.

There was an astonished look that befell the boys. The mousy one - Pettigrew, began to claw at his face. “Oh Merlin, Sirius what have you done?” he whined, his light blue eyes already taking on a glassy state.

"Shut it Worm, I’m sure nothing bad is going to fucking happen," Sirius spat out, frustration oozing into the tension between the boys. Hermione met his glare with a blank expression. “If she starts yelling then we know she's fine."

Hermione took note that yelling would not be helpful to her cause. Because frankly, she had no clue what to yell. She began with opening and then closing a mouth, and then repeating those actions a few more times, incapable of conjuring up anything to say as she stared at the four boys who had all passed at some point in her time. Feeling a sulk overcome herm she pulled her knees to her chest.

“Dorea,” Sirius whispered, a stone look that sat on his face as he watched the tears cascade Hermione’s face. His expression cracked as Hermione sent him a look of absolute and utter fear - with little apprehension, she watched as he dropped her wand to the floor, using his foot to roll it towards her.

She stared at the foreign wooden stick; it was not the wand of Hermione Granger - but instead that of this Dorea person who she masqueraded as. An ungodly sob left her mouth, and she stuffed her face into her hands. All she heard was the sound of the boys stepping away from her depressive form.

“I think that she may be suffering some sought of head trauma,” a young Remus said out loud, taking an anxious few steps forward before she heard him pluck her wand from the floor. “Most likely causing memory loss, we can only hope Madam Pomfrey will be able to assist,” he explained, and Hermione felt thankful for his logical explanation despite how far from the truth he was.

"Should we take her to the hospital wing? Or owl you mother?" Peter promoted gently, walking over to Sirius to stare at the girl cry uncontrollably.

"Hell no," Sirius sulked, and Hermione took a peep from between her fingers to see he was proceeding to run a hand through his hair and tap his foot anxiously against the floor.

"We can take her to the hospital wing Pads," James said slowly, gulping loudly when his eyes connected with Hermione’s. "Madam Pomfrey will be our best shot at help - and then everything will be just as normal," James explained, Sirius taking on a small smile at the idea.

Hermione let out a shriek of surprise when she was lifted off the floor by Sirius Black. “Merlin Dorea, trust me - I would rather be anywhere else,” he sulked, a far from fond look in his eyes. As she came to stand on her feet, James Potter came to hold her arm to give her balance, he tried to ignore her piecing gaze. The boys dragged her through the stone corridors of Hogwarts, a buzz of quietness and hastened footsteps. Sirius who had chosen to take her free hand as he hauled her through the building, send wide smiles to all onlookers as Hermione muffled her own messy sniffles.

As they had taken step into the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey let out a shriek of horror as Sirius took a long stride away from Hermione. James too followed his friend in dropping her hand. Remus gave her gentle guidance towards one of the beds, an apologetic smile in return for his friend’s coldness.

Sirius turned his back to her, and she let out a huff as he began to smile charmingly at other female occupants of the hospital wing as he halfheartedly waved over the medical witch. Pettigrew moved instantly to stand by him, shoulders brought as the boys chose to ignore the existence of Hermione Granger - or, she thought dimly, Dorea.

James let out a stilted chuckle, scratching the back of his head as Pomfrey met the group with a stern glaring. “You see, Poppy, it is absolutely and entirely Padfoot’s fault, and none of the blame should go to-“ 

Remus cut him off, with a deep sigh and a swat. “Oh shush James, honestly, all that happened was that Sirius stupidly dropped Black on her head, and now she can’t remember -“ again another interruption.

“Shit!”

“Prongs,” Sirius hissed. “Remus was talking.”

Madam Pomfrey shook her head at the boys before approaching Hermione who sat on the hospital bed. “Miss Black, do you understand what has occurred?” the medi-witch asked calmly, corners of her lips stretched upwards into a comforting smile.

Hermione paused, before shaking her head. “No ma’am,” she responded meekly, she heard the marauders suck in a breath. “I haven’t the slightest clue what is happening.” A want to be honest burned at the surface of her skin, but there was no way she could do this without appearing mad, or having her knowledge abused. Truly, nothing good happened to those who meddled with time. 

The following half hour proceeded with Pomfrey running a series of test, and being appalled at the normal results.

“Do you know your name?”

“Dorea?” She more questioned than asserted, her gaze flickering from Pomfrey to Sirius, his expression against stone. 

“Full name?”

“Black, you said that before, right,” Hermione muttered, pulling her eyes from Sirius who’s detached look had sent a chill down her spine. Madam Pomfrey proceeded to begin tutting something, before scratching out one of her previously written notes from her notepad. Hermione feld herself sit there with dreaded apprehension, want to hear that she was incorrect, and that she was not apart of the Black family.

“Middle name?”

Blank. Hermione wheezed as an answer, eyes bugging slightly.

“So, you don’t know your middle name?”

“No.”

“Do you know where you live?”

“No.”

“Do you know the names of your siblings?”

“No.”

“Well,” Pomfrey smiled reassuringly. “You are known as Dorea Druella Black.”  
Hermione felt herself suck in a deep breath of air; chest overridden with a sudden tightness. Dorea Druella Black, now just who exactly could that be? The answers were endless, and although Hermione doubted that there was not a Dorea in the Black family, she was uncertain in believing that there was supposed to be one so close in age with Sirius Black. As aside from Sirius and his younger brother Regulus, the only other Blacks even close to this age were the Black sisters - and they were well past graduated.

Sirius then broke the silence, his stony look cracking away into that of numbed disenchantment. “Are you saying she can’t remember anything- at all?” he asked, a wince overcoming him when he made eye contact with Hermione. Pomfrey let out a slow nod, a fatigued sadness as she lowered her quill before hurrying across the room and out of sight. “Blimey,” he signed, stretching his fingers across his face as he huffed a drained sigh.

This look of dreadful understanding came across him, this pale horror as he seemed to still with shock - Hermione grimaced when his eyes seemed to search hers, as if to ask a question that he had forgotten to say aloud. “Dorea,” he whispered, voice a coarse whisper. “Do you know anything at all about the Noble House of Black.”

There was a violent thump of her heart, as she leant back, their eye contact unbreaking as Hermione faced a challenging task - to honor his question with her honest answer, or to shake her head and fake ignorance. Her still status and blank look made him shudder.

“No, of course, she doesn’t - why would she know that,” Sirius cursed quietly, his gaze unnervingly still on her. “Merlin’s fuck, Dorea, you get to forget all that you did.”

All that she did? She frowned, as Sirius stepped away, as James Potter had appeared at his side - draping a caring arm around his friend.

As those two boys made their leave, she let her hear pang at the site of the Potter, as she let her face wrinkle as she scrutinized him. Build a bit different, and skin a couple shades darker, James Potter was an uncanny lookalike of his son. Fuller, and a whole lot more swagger, but when she watched the back of his head, she felt that he could turn around and be her Harry. The boy with the messiest and most ruffled jet-black hair. 

“You dropped this,” a voice interrupted her staring, and Hermione let the apologetic heat fall upon her cheeks as she turned to the voice. Remus Lupin. He stood there, awkwardly holding a polished leather book bag. “In the corridor-“ he choked momentarily. “In your fall.”

Sending him a forced smile, she accepted the bag with a tight ‘thank you’. He hovered slightly before digging into his pocket, and she swore she heard the distinct sound of wrappers crinkling. He successfully pulled out her wand, and he placed it to the side table. 

“Sirius handed it to me,” he explained, before nodding hid head and making hurried paces after his friends. Peter Pettigrew having waited for him with a nauseatingly gentle smile.

Had her newfound loneliness not been interrupted by the arrival of Pomfrey, she might have returned to dwelling over her issues with self-pity. But alas, here the medi-witch had returned.

As Pomfrey began to retell Hermione the absurdity of her results from the medi-witch’s examinations, she added that there was seemingly little chance of returning her memories. Hermione perhaps would have had been upset had she known that she was actually who she claimed to be. Despite her inner turmoil, Pomfrey continued to explain that she had notified her sister to come collect her, and that she should seek to heal at home before attempting to finish her final term at Hogwart’s in her condition. And if it came to it, the Black family should be able to provide tutoring to ensure a finished education.

She bit her tongue so hard, that the bitter copper taste of blood washed over her. As Pomfrey stated the absolute worst possible sentence.

“So, never to fear Miss Black, as your elder sister Bellatrix Lestrange will soon be here to collect you.”

Had this damned witch not caused her enough problems?!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment whatever you want. Whether that is constructive criticism, ideas or theories as to where you believe this will lead (some of you already know lmao), or just want to scream in the comments - they are all much appreciated. 
> 
> The new chapter is already half done as it is just rewriting and adding onto the original chapters. xx


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